Hunted
by Beregond5
Summary: G1. Hound is about to find out that time has a way of changing things.


The forest was coloured rich green and filled with life. Squirrels and chipmunks were scampering hither and thither with their cheeks swollen because of the nuts they were holding in their mouths. Robins and starlings were pecking the ground for any worthwhile meal, whereas a woodpecker could be heard tapping away on the bark of a tree nearby.

Hound and Beachcomber couldn't get enough of such beauty.

They weren't in the forest on any mission. As a matter of fact, they both had been relieved of their duties for the day, which made it the perfect opportunity to check out some of the wildlife in the particular area. And so, they were now lying on the ground, crawling as quietly as possible so as not to disturb their objects of observation and recording anything that caught their interest – which was basically everything. True, one might wonder how it was possible for two giant mechs to make themselves inconspicuous to the always-alert woodland creatures; nevertheless, those two had their methods. Hound provided the holograms that made the pair appear like some innocent-looking bushes, and Beachcomber mimicked the sounds of animals so as not to alarm the real ones.

Just then, another flute-like song responded to Beachcomber's. The minibot turned up his audio receptors at once and whistled the tune again. When the call was repeated from the other side of the clearing, Beachcomber patted Hound's shoulder.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered so low that he practically mouthed the words.

Hound nodded. "What bird is it?"

Beachcomber searched his files till he found a positive match. "A veery. Let's see if I can make it show itself." And with that, he imitated the bird's song again. The moment that the tune escaped his lip components, the small light-brown thrush had flown to a nearby branch so close to the mechs that the minibot could easily grab it if he wanted to. Both blue and green mech positively grinned.

However, the veery didn't stay long on the branch. The rustling of leaves made it fly off in alarm. Hound and Beachcomber turned at once, just in time to catch sight of a white-tailed doe treading carefully out of a thicket. The mechs watched closely and with bated breath as the graceful animal took another step forward, ears moving non-stop in order to catch any suspicious sound.

"That's odd," Hound said in a low tone – he didn't want to startle the doe. "She seems really watchful."

Beachcomber pointed subtly at the thicket. "And here's why."

Sure enough, a small spotted fawn sprang close to the doe's side, kicking its legs in a playful manner and wagging its tail as it did so.

Hound and Beachcomber couldn't help it. They let out a sound that resembled very much like an "aww".

"Talk about excitement," Beachcomber said, watching the fawn rush to its mother and stick its head under her belly.

Hound chuckled. "Looks like it's hungry."

Beachcomber nodded with a smile before patting his friend's shoulder. "Let's leave them be. No need to spoil their privacy."

"Right."

But the two mechs barely moved a gear, when the doe suddenly snorted and bolted, followed closely behind by the fawn. Hound and Beachcomber froze at once, unsure what to make of that reaction and yet quite sure they had nothing to do with it.

It was then that they realised something very important. The whole forest had grown quiet. There were no more birds singing, and the squirrels and the chipmunks had scampered off into hiding. Hound and Beachcomber exchanged a glance of worry, because they both knew what that sign meant.

Something was approaching – and not necessarily friendly.

Hound drew Beachcomber's attention and made a sign with his hand that they should stay low. After all, the holograms were good enough camouflage, as long as the mechs didn't make a sound.

Beachcomber didn't have to be told twice. He pressed himself as close to the ground as possible, optics on the lookout for anything unusual.

_Can't you run a scan? _he mouthed close to his friend.

Hound shook his head. _Too risky._

That meant all they could do was wait. A minute passed, then two… and then, five minutes later, they heard it.

It was the sound of metal steps.

Hound and Beachcomber exchanged an apprehensive look. They knew beyond any doubt that it was a Cybertronian close by, but the big question remained unanswered.

Was it an Autobot or a Decepticon?

When the newcomer appeared though, there was no mistaking his blue and white markings. It was Mirage.

And yet there was something odd about him; so odd that Hound and Beachcomber got too surprised to reveal themselves just yet. For the spy was hardly looking at his surroundings. In fact, he walked on, his worry clear on his features; whereas his gaze kept drifting on something that he was holding quite tenderly in his hands. Something _whining_, to be precise, and he had to keep shushing it gently.

It was of no use though. Whatever Mirage was holding wouldn't stop, and the spy seemed now at his wits' end.

That, Hound and Beachcomber decided, was the time to get out of their hiding place. Hound removed their holographic cover and the two nature-loving mechs got back on their feet. Mirage almost flinched at seeing the two Transformers, but he relaxed when he realised who they were.

"You shouldn't jump at me like that," he mildly scolded them. "For a moment I thought you were Decepticons."

"That's what we thought about _you_," Beachcomber pointed out.

"So what are you doing here? Is it your day off?" Hound asked curiously.

"No," Mirage said. "I was on patrol, but…"

It was then that the tiniest fox cub Hound and Beachcomber had ever seen popped its head up from the spy's palm. Its eyes were closed, and it was desperately trying to paw its way out of the mech's hand.

The first to react at that sight was Beachcomber. And to say that he was perplexed would have been an understatement.

"Mirage… there's a mother fox probably looking for that right now."

But Mirage shook his head sadly. "She can't. She's dead."

"How do you know?" Hound asked in surprise.

"Because I saw it happening. She got killed by some kind of a lean dog."

"A coyote?"

"I don't know!" Mirage said exasperatingly. "All I can tell you is that that thing attacked the mother, made short work of her, and then attacked the cubs. I could only save this one, but there's something wrong with it. It's going cold."

Naturally, Beachcomber didn't lose any time.

"Here, let me have a look at it."

Mirage hesitated at first, but in the end he apparently decided that he should indulge the minibot. He placed the fox cub carefully in Beachcomber's hands, and the mech started probing the animal for a thorough examination.

"Yeah… It's got some slight hypothermia," the minibot concluded. "It's not that bad for now, but we should still get some medical attention for it."

Hound understood. "I'll call one of the rangers to give us directions to the nearest veterinary centre."

"That would be best," Beachcomber agreed.

Mirage looked at the two mechs hopefully. "Will it be all right?"

"We're not making promises, buddy," Hound said. "We'll find out soon enough."

And with that, the green mech opened his communication frequencies.

-----------------

Later that day, Hound and Mirage were transformed to their car modes and driving back to the Ark. Beachcomber, on the other hand, stayed back at the veterinary centre with a promise to contact Mirage and Hound as soon as he got news on the fox cub's condition.

It seemed a well-meaning enough gesture at first glance. However, Hound was aware that Beachcomber was offering the green mech the opportunity to talk to Mirage. For, truth be told, the same question had crossed both the minibot and the jeep's processor, and someone had to confront Mirage about it. That someone was Hound, since Mirage would be more willing to open up to the green mech. After all, they were good friends - _best_ friends, in fact - in spite of their different backgrounds.

That didn't make Hound any less uneasy. He couldn't find it in his spark to ask Mirage something that was too personal and certainly belonged to the past.

And yet… he needed to know.

As though Primus wanted to make things easier for the green mech, it was Mirage who spoke first.

"Do you think the cub will make it?"

Hound made a humming sound on the affirmative. "You heard what the vet said: if it could live that long, it was meant to survive. It'll be fine."

Mirage let out a sigh.

"I hope so."

However, Hound's words must have got through him, because his driving had become more relaxed. And that seemed to Hound the best opportunity to finally ask what was on his mind.

"Mirage… why did you save that fox?"

Mirage certainly didn't expect that question, because it was some time before he finally answered with a hesitant: "Why shouldn't I?"

Now it was Hound's turn to feel nervous. "You used to hunt turbofoxes just for the fun of it," he said eventually.

Mirage came to a sudden halt and transformed.

Taken aback at the reaction, Hound transformed as well and turned to look at his friend. To his concern, the spy's hands were clenched into fists.

"Mirage?"

"I don't want to talk about it," the spy said.

"Mirage, I--"

"Drop it, Hound." And with that final word, Mirage turned on his heel and walked away to the direction of a river nearby. He sat by the riverbank with a huff, arms around his knees and optics staring at the horizon.

Though Hound knew that that was Mirage's way of saying that he wanted to be alone for the next few hours, he didn't leave. He simply walked up to Mirage and sat down by his side in silence, placing a comforting hand on the spy's shoulder. Fortunately, Mirage didn't pull himself away from the touch. It meant that he hadn't shut his friend out entirely, and so Hound could address his friend once more.

"Won't you tell me?" The tone was soft and coaxing, making it perfectly clear to Mirage that Hound wanted to understand and to be trusted.

There was silence for many long moments before Mirage let out a long sigh and bowed his head. Hound's persistence had won – like always.

"You said it yourself, Hound," the spy said quietly. "I _used_ to hunt turbofoxes just for the fun of it." He paused to look at Hound, a rueful expression on his features. "And then the Decepticons came along, destroying everything on their path… and Ifound myself running for _my _life. _I _became one of the hunted ones. And it wasn't any fun, I can tell you that."

Hound couldn't help it. His spark wrenched involuntarily, and his grip on Mirage's shoulder tightened slightly.

"No. I guess it wasn't," he agreed with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Mirage."

Mirage didn't speak. He just shrugged.

"But… you know something?"

This time, the spy looked at Hound quizzically.

"You're like that fox cub. If you lived that long, you were meant to survive." Hound cuffed his friend on the arm. "You will be fine."

Mirage's optics widened a bit in surprise for a moment; but then the spy half-smiled, for he understood what Hound told him.

"I hope so," he said, cheered up somewhat.

"I know so," Hound said confidently. He arose and offered his hand to help Mirage get back on his feet too. "Ready to go back to the Ark?"

Mirage nodded. "Yeah."

"Good." And with that, Hound transformed to his jeep form and set off. He could hear Mirage following closely behind, and he also noticed that his friend's engine sounded different for some reason; more clear and unburdened.

He could only guess it was because Mirage felt one step closer to redemption.

**The End.**


End file.
